


the moment of the fall

by carpexdiem (starrytobios)



Category: Dead Poets Society (1989)
Genre: Boys In Love, Canon Universe, Falling In Love, Feelings Realization, Ficlet, M/M, My First Work in This Fandom, Short One Shot, Sweaty-Toothed Madman Scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-16
Updated: 2021-01-16
Packaged: 2021-03-12 12:40:31
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,125
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28760448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starrytobios/pseuds/carpexdiem
Summary: Falling for Todd Anderson makes it feel like love can be written for seventeen-year-old boys like Neil Perry, who are burdened with conformity but cannot oblige because their heart found its home in the bones of another boy.Todd makes up a poem on the spot and Neil realises all the feelings that have been brewing within him for quite some time.
Relationships: Todd Anderson & Neil Perry, Todd Anderson/Neil Perry
Comments: 13
Kudos: 69





	the moment of the fall

Neil has read about love. Of course he has: Mr Keating often attributes love to the reason we live. It is fanciful, a concept that Neil has always believed to abide within the pages of books and poetry and plays. It exists on the turn of a page, perpetually written out of his grasp, for people not like him.

No, love isn't written for seventeen-year-olds with big goals to reach and parents to please, not written for those snared in ivy that dooms them for greatness—Harvard, a degree, and the title of doctor that drips blue blood into his veins.

But what are gold and diamonds, when there is no soul in the path that leads you to them? What use is a crown that weighs heavy on the head that wears it?

Neil knows, has known perhaps all his life, that the polished crown his father waves a prize has always seemed hollow to him. All he needs to do is peel away layer by layer—tradition, expectations, the principles of others—and all that will remain, all that he is chasing down, is no more than dulled silver that lost its shine many moons ago. Loveless rust, yes, passionless decay—that is what his father has left him. That is what he must want.

But that was before, and this is now.

That was before Mr Keating brought colour into the black and white planes of Welton, before the cerulean of the sky bled through his dorm room windows like a taste of a world that exists beyond all he has ever known, before love—passion, desire, ambition. That was before the curtains of the theatre opened to let him in, before he reached out and decided to do what he wanted, whether his father wanted him to or not. Carpe fucking Diem, and all.

That was before, and this is now.

Now, Todd Anderson is standing before the class, spewing words about a sweaty-toothed madman that sink into Neil's skin like a million needles at once. Gone is the boy who shies away and dares not speak; this Todd is not bashful, nor demure. He is a scholar, a poet, speaking well-chosen words into the still air, and all Neil can do is watch in awe. All he can do is watch, as light seeps from Todd who still has his eyes screwed shut, who has a few strands of his soul on display. Strands that Neil wants to pull and twirl around his fingers so the boy before them will unravel until Neil can learn all of him from memory.

Fleeting glimpses of what truly makes up his roommate will no longer suffice, not when he shines like this. Not when his words are starlight, and he is the sun, leaving Neil to chase after his radiance like a greek tragedy in the making.

But that's fine; coaxing Todd out of his shell is a mission Neil doesn't think he could ever make him grow weary. He is more than willing to run for him. More than willing to learn everything there is to know about him, about what makes, as Mr Keating would say, words drip from his tongue like honey. He is more than willing to understand his inner workings, to identify his muse, to watch Todd craft his masterpieces and hypnotise naive boys like Neil who are all too quick to fall, all too quick to want—

The thought steals the floor from underneath him.

To fall.

 _To fall for Todd_ , like he is the stage and acting.

To want.

 _To want Todd_ , like he is a standing ovation.

Todd stops speaking, and taciturnity befalls the room like that blanket he mentioned—weighted, but not enough to cover them all. For a second, no one dares say a word, not even Mr Keating and the air has become smothering. Neil almost feels like the wind has been knocked from his lungs and this latest revelation weighs down like an anchor sitting on the pit of his stomach; it feels like the sky will come crashing down through the classroom roof and crush his mortal frame.

But Todd looks straight at him and all the chains tethering him to the ground are broken—suddenly, he is free-falling.

Free-falling through time and space with no restraint, until his body lies with the stars and sky and all the planets that orbit Todd Anderson. He falls but it doesn’t feel foreign. He falls like his heart is used to the absence of gravity, like his skin knows the feeling of wind rushing against it, like his feet have long since parted from the earth. And he doesn’t know when it started, doesn’t recognise how long this has been taking place. Has Neil been tumbling through the universe for hours, days, weeks, years, eons, or a hundred fucking lifetimes? Has he been falling since the moment he learnt Todd’s name?

Has he been in love all this time?

Neil’s cheeks smart from smiling, but it's the type of ache that feels good, like the twinge of a cold rag on his forehead after a particularly high fever, or the pang of sore muscles after a good game of soccer with his friends, or the sting of his tired feet the first time they ran all the way to the cave for their first meeting as the Dead Poets Society.

(Todd is still looking at him with blown out eyes and a faint smile and pink-tinged cheeks and fuck— Fuck. _Fuck_. Neil knows gravity has no power over a central force as magnetic as Todd Anderson).

This is the good type of hurt, like Todd laughing with him and smiling at him, like they are the only two boys in the room. Like they are the only two boys in the world.

And at that point of time, in that everlasting second of eye contact and exchanged grins, Neil Perry decides that the moment of the fall is elusive, mysterious, beautiful, but it pales in importance to the act of falling itself. Because falling for Todd Anderson is eternal, and Neil thinks he could savour every second he plunges further into the ocean of loving him, of getting to know everything about him.

Falling for Todd Anderson makes it feel like love can be written for seventeen-year-old boys like Neil Perry, who are burdened with conformity but cannot oblige because their heart found its home in the bones of another boy.

It should scare him; it does to some degree.

But as Knox said, Carpe Diem—even if it kills him.

So, Neil Perry has fallen, like distinguished dynasties and great empires before him.

Neil Perry has fallen for Todd Anderson—wholeheartedly.

**Author's Note:**

> hellooooo ‼️
> 
> this is my first dps fic and ofc it had to be anderperry because come on...they’re boyfriends. anyway this technically has no plot and is merely my brain spewing up words because the way neil looks at todd after the sweaty-toothed madman scene...wtf that’s gay asf 🚶🏽♀️
> 
> anyway! i love them. thanks for reading, my twitter is starkspoet so come scream about dps with me over there.


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